#Made my training plan but its so half assed it's p similar to my last marathon w/out speedwork and probably with trails

[bsaka7]

18f!!!!! Balmy today!!!!

[elldell1204]

Tented - Matt Casey x Reader

Anonymous: yesterday’s fic was amazing! may I request casey x fem reader on going on a trip together? maybe you could include some smut? thanks xx

Thanks so much for the request! I am getting them all and am working my way through. 🥰 So, I started writing this and then realised that I had read a fic with a similar concept to mine by @shelswrites​ so definitely go check out their’s here! ❤️ I don’t know whether to apologise or not for the smut that is in this, but there is definitely a lack of hot Casey smut on the internet, so I’m here to do my bit to fix that, even if that does mean I’m going to hell 😊😜 Enjoy! 😉

Warning: VERY NSFW, pure smut and swearing ;)

wc - 2,787

(Also, 😍😍😍 ⬇️⬇️)

“Easy, Matt.” You scolded, throwing your arms out to grab onto anything you could find, hoping and praying that whatever you did wouldn’t get in the way of his driving, not that you cared when he was going fifty round a bend.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I know what I’m doing. I drove the truck for three years before I became lieutenant, so a car is like that with training wheels.” He chuckled, a sound that twinkled in your ears to calm the racing of your heart. It was only semi-successful.

“I’ll remind you of that when we end up at the bottom of a cliff.” You huffed, trying to stop a smile spreading across your face to prove a point.

You had absolutely no idea where you were going. When you and Matt had gotten home from shift last night, he said that he had sorted out a surprise holiday for you both and shoved you in the car. He hadn’t even let you pack your own suitcase or look in the trunk. You sat for approximately a half hour before he re-emerged from your apartment building, the only thing in his hand being the blindfold you preferred to use in the bedroom, only it was now being used to keep you in the dark about where you were driving. ‘Yep, definitely prefer it in the bedroom.’ You thought.

Now, around forty-five minutes and several wrong guesses later, you were slightly frustrated, mildly travel sick and pulling up to your destination.

“We’re here.” Matt smiled, which you couldn’t see but could hear in his voice, which automatically brightened you up and returned you to the cheery and excited state you were in when you first started on your journey.

“Am I taking this off?” You gestured to the blindfold.

“Mmm…not yet.” He hesitated, and the next time he spoke he was close enough that his breath fanned over your ear and his hand was gently brushing your thigh. “You do look really hot in it right now. Reminds me of the other night.”

You visibly shivered, a heat flowing to your core at the thoughts that now flooded your mind. You released a shaky breath as Matt pulled back, opening the car door and stepping out.

“Jesus Christ.” You breathed to yourself. The things that man could do to you.

The sound of your door opening startled you, but the warmth of the hand that grasped yours calmed you immensely, and you chuckled. The warmth of the air hit your skin as you stepped out, a change from the air-conditioned interior of the car. Matt guided you along what felt like grass under your toes, stopping after about twenty feet.

“Surprise, baby.” He whispered in your ear as he carefully untied the blindfold. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light, but as soon as they did, you were astounded by the view. A glistening lake stretched before you, cut off by an emerald forest on the other side as the golden streams of light from the sun cascaded over the tops as it set. Different layers overlapped where the ground was higher in places, offering endless opportunities for long walks and hikes. To your right was a clearing with picnic benches and spots for tents to be set up, only one of them currently in use.

You turned your head to the side to face Matt, a smile brightly illuminating your features and he couldn’t be happier at the sight.

“Oh Matt…” You sighed happily, reaching up a hand to cup his face. “This is gorgeous.”

“I’m happy you like it.” He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and peppering sweet kisses up your neck. You hummed in content, fluttering your eyes closed to savour the moment.

“Is this because I told you I had never been camping before the other night?” You murmured.

“Mhmm.” He confirmed. “My dad used to bring me and Christie here when we were little, and I loved it, so I wanted to share it with you.”

“Well thank you.”

“We should probably get set up before the sun sets fully.” He said, and you nodded, turning and walking beside him back to the car to help out.

Matt practically put up the tent himself, since you just felt you were getting in the way as you didn’t have much experience, not that he minded; he was in his element. You instead decided to get acquainted with your temporary neighbours. They were on the opposite side of the row to you, about ten yards down, with you being at the closest to the water and them being the furthest. They were sat in a couple of camping chairs in front of their campfire, smiling and waving as you made your way over. Mr and Mrs Miller were a lovely couple, a couple of generations older than you but still very lively. You got to know them relatively well in the fifteen minutes you spoke to them, telling them about your jobs as firefighters and how it was your first camping trip. They told you about their grandkids, how they liked to travel to different campsites around the country now that they were both retired, and even offered for you and Matt to join them if you so wished. Matt came over once he was done with the tent, joining in the conversation before you bid farewell to go and unpack what was left from the car and get something to eat.

“So, do we have to piss in a circle around the tent now?” You asked Matt half-jokingly after swallowing the last bite of your sandwich that he had packed for you both. You were sat beside each other on the grass, looking out to the lake, the sun very low behind the trees. The Millers had gone to bed an hour ago, so you were the only people in sight for at least a mile.

“What?” He burst out laughing at your unexpected question, as you had previously been sat in comfortable silence.

“You know, to keep the bears away.” You shrugged, chuckling along.

Matt placed a hand on your knee as he came down from his laughing fit. “No, Y/N, there aren’t any bears around here, so we’re good. Although, be my guest if you really want to.”

“Oh, shut up.” You playfully shoved his shoulder as you smiled. “Do you have anything planned for tonight then?”

“Not really. We made it here quicker than I thought we would so I don’t have anything pre-planned. However,” Matt began to draw circles on your thigh with his thumb, leaning in closer to you, beginning to trail kisses down your neck, stopping at the junction of it to suck a hickey into your skin, painting it a sultry red that would shift hues as the days pass. “Christening the tent doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”

You let out a breathy moan, melting into his touch like a candle to a flame, his skin leaving tingles wherever it touched yours. He moved a hand to your shoulder blade and gently lowered you down on the grass so that he was hovering over you, his hands roaming your body like yours were roaming his.

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” You managed to get out as Matt coaxed your t-shirt halfway up your torso. “I have a better idea.”

He stopped his ministrations and lifted his head to look at you quizzically. All you did in reply was give him a mischievous smile before sitting up, taking him with you, and standing. You began walking backwards towards the lake, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt to tease him before pulling it fully over your head and throwing it to the side. Matt’s eyes were glued to your body, seductively walking backwards with a heat in your step, as he stood, doing nothing but watching you, transfixed. By now you had begun unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping the fly and pushing them off your legs, leaving you in just your underwear. It wasn’t anything overly risqué (comfortable lilac cotton with lace trim on both of the matching pieces) but it practically had him drooling.

“Ever been skinny dipping, Matt?” You said, voice dripping with lust like nectar from a flower, your teasing head tilt making his pants become uncomfortably tight.

“Someone’s feeling daring.” He pointed out, his voice seemingly deeper than before.

You winked in reply, turning around before pulling down your panties, stepping out of them then unclasping your bra, pulling it off your shoulders and throwing it to the floor. Your nipples were already fully erect, and because it was a humid summer’s day, you knew it wasn’t due to any cold air. Now fully nude, you looked back over your shoulder to see Matt getting undressed himself, a slight sheen of sweat glistening on his bare chest in the dim light that shone through the trees. You couldn’t help but turn around and enjoy the show, him pushing down his pants and boxers in one, allowing his cock to spring free against his stomach, granting it its much-awaited freedom. He lifted his eyes to see you watching him, biting your lip, and suddenly all your thoughts of running to the water’s edge dissipated, being replaced with him taking you right there and then on the grass.

“I don’t know about you,” He said as he walked the ten feet distance to you. “But I don’t think I can wait till we’re in the water.”

He was right in front of you now, his skin just begging for your touch. All you could do was nod, your bottom lip still trapped by your teeth until he reached up his hand to your face, his thumb tugging your lip free. He then threaded the same hand into your hair, the other one wandering down to grab your ass as he leaned in. You slid one hand up his chest and the other down to wrap around his cock, then you met him halfway, locking your lips in a devilishly hot kiss. You were both heavily aroused already, your nipples pressing hard against his chest, his dick twitching as you ran your hand up and down it.

In seconds you were laid down on the floor, Matt hovering over the top of you as he his lips began to drift over your jaw, down your neck, and to your left breast. His breath was hot and the occasional moan left his lips, but he stayed on his quest. He sucked at your nipple harshly, eliciting a moan from you. He peered up from his spot on your chest, quirking an eyebrow.

“You need to stay quiet, babygirl.” He smirked.

You sighed in frustration. You loved letting him know vocally what he did to you, even though he could tell by the way you writhed and squirmed beneath him. He went back to your nipple, licking a stripe up it as his left hand rolled your other between his fingers, pinching harshly every now and then to make your blood rush to your centre. He lightly bit the one he had in his mouth, and you had to clamp your teeth down onto your bottom lip to stop yourself from groaning. He soothed it by swirling his tongue before moving onto your other breast, his right hand dancing down your side softly, caressing your hip, trailing further and further down until it met your hot, wet lips.

You gasped out as his finger drew circles around your clit, his lips tracing patterns with kisses down your torso on their way to meet his fingers. You bucked your hips into his hand, grinding your wetness against him, telling him that this was all for him, that he had done this to you. You felt his lips turn upwards into a smile against your hip, letting you know he understood, as his teeth nipped gently at the skin there.

He finally arrived at his destination, drawing back his fingers, leaving you whimpering at the loss of contact. He pushed your legs further apart, his warm breath fanning over your glistening lips as you began to squirm in anticipation of what was to come. He knew he was damn good at giving oral, as did you, and he loved to hear you and see you work yourself up before the act.

“Please, Matt, please, I-I need-“ You started to plead, only to be interrupted by his tongue flattening against your aching nub, running back and forth in long, slow strokes that caused your muscles to tense at each one, however hard you tried to relax.

“Holy fucking shit…” You breathed out, bringing a hand to your mouth to muffle the moans that were bound to come. His mouth vibrated against you as he chuckled at your response, but he didn’t stop. He sealed his lips around your clit, making your head spin, swirling his tongue around and around. You reached out your free hand to entangle your fingers into his golden strands, tugging gently at them, just how he liked it. He moaned against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He continued to suck and lap at different spots to make to writhe beneath him, using his hands to pin your thighs down on either side of his head.

You felt your orgasm beginning to coil tighter and tighter in your stomach, and he seemed in no rush to get out of there, lavishing attention over every part of you, leaving nothing untouched. Sliding his hands underneath your ass, he pulled you further into him, filling his mouth with you as if he could never get enough.

“Matt, I’m…I’m close.” You panted, and he got the hint, removing his mouth with one last lick and moving back up to meet your lips once again. You could feel his hard on pressing against your core, teasing you whether it was intentional or not, as his tongue danced with yours and your lips fought in a battle to devour each other’s.

He was grinding against you now, just enough friction to make you beg for more but not enough to reach your high. He knew what he was doing, and he was enjoying it. Time for a taste of his own medicine.

You took his moment of weakness (in the form of a groan) to flip your bodies over, you now straddling him, lips still connected as you grinded down onto him. He was craving his release, as were you, and as much as you were relishing the moment, you gave in. You lifted your hips, wrapping a hand around his throbbing cock to line it up with your entrance before sinking down onto it, both of you releasing a guttural moan in unison, attempting to be as quiet as possible but failing pretty miserably. His hands were gripping your hips so hard they would probably leave bruises that would linger for days, reminding you of this night every time you looked in the mirror.

You tried to hold on, continue teasing him, but pure carnal pleasure took over, and soon you were raising your hips and slamming them back down, each motion causing a delicious bliss to flood your veins. Your movements quickened, both of you panting with how close you were to the brink of an orgasm, when Matt drove his hips up in time with you, the force at which he did making you lift a hand from where you were bracing yourself on his shoulder to your mouth, clamping it over it to muffle the scream you let free.

“Come with me, baby, I want to feel you clench around my cock.” Matt groaned, and you flew over the edge, hurtling into the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced, Matt joining you as you felt him release into you. You could’ve sworn you saw a galaxy of stars behind your eyelids as your legs shuddered with the force of your high, and as you lifted yourself off of Matt and collapsed next to him in a post-orgasmic daze, you took deep breaths of the fresh night air that enveloped you.

With some sense of reality restored, Matt placed an arm under your head, wrapping it around you to draw soothing circles on your shoulder as you both watch the real stars above your heads. You turned towards him to nuzzle into his neck, pressing lazy kissing along his pulse point as you enjoyed each other’s company, blind to the rest of the world, at least for a few minutes.

[itsokaytheyrejustwords-blog]

A Beautiful Year

below the cut is the short story that i wrote.  i know it is pretty rough right now.  i know it needs a lot of work.  i’m going to edit it a lot, don’t worry.  still, the content is important to me since it’s an expression of how i’ve come to love writing again after a long struggle with my mentality, so i wanted to paste this draft version here, and if anyone has feedback (good or bad), i would love to know your thoughts!

i’ll post the final draft whenever it’s done!

Rafa and I met when we were both on our way back to campus from the airport, on the train. I felt broken and just wanted to hide from the world, which I thought was fitting considering the way it was raining outside, and she turned to me so suddenly that I thought she was angry. That was pretty common when it came to me on trains on account of the amount of fat on my body and its tendency to intrude on my seat-neighbor's space.

Instead, she said, "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

I'd planned on ignoring the insult I expected to hear, but when it didn't come I responded more instinctively. "Hardly."

The girl was immediately defiant, and I immediately regretted my decision to talk. "On what grounds?"

"It's r-raining," I said, reluctantly, trying to keep the response short, but apparently it wasn't short enough. The girl didn't seem phased, though, and simply raised her eyebrows as if to say "so what." So I risked continuing. "On what g-grounds is it beautiful?"

"It's a perfect day for writing!" She grinned, and pulled out a journal with a pencil in its spine. It was the same kind his sister used for her writing, cheap and plain and black, but clearly well-loved nonetheless. I knew I shouldn't, I knew it would only lead to a let down, but I couldn't stop myself from speaking up again.

"You're a wr-writer?"

"Sure am! My roommate Erinne says it's the source of my life force."

"Is she r-right?"

"Probably," she giggled. Then she reached out her hand. "I'm Rafa!"

"Jasper," I said. I tried to grab her hand, but my own mercilessly resisted the action.

"Oh!" Rafa pulled her hand back, apparently noticing my hesitation. "You don't like touch, huh? That's my bad, sorry!"

"Ah," I stalled, because that was my line, normally, and I couldn't think of an alternative response for a moment. "It's f-fine. N-Nice to m-meet you. Are you g-going to the university, too?"

"Sure am! You too? What're you studying?"

"Journalism, for editing. You?"

"Wow, editing, huh? That's awesome. I'm studying Creative Writing," she said, holding the pencil up again. "Speaking of, I ought to get back to it!"

She opened the notebook, and almost instantly her pencil was flying across the page, and it seemed that the conversation was over. That should have been perfectly fine with me, but once I'd started watching her write, I found myself unable to stop and a chill scampered up my spine. The only other person who'd had that effect on me was my twin sister, Jet, and she was the best writer I knew. I'm not normally one to offer my editing skills to strangers, but her likeness to my sister made too compelling argument to deny.

"Hey," I said, "d-do you n-need a proof reader?"

When she looked up, it was like she was coming out of some sort of trance, and it took a moment from her expression to go from confused to appreciative. Then she shook her head. "Thanks for the offer, I do appreciate it, but, well, I don't let people read my stuff."

"Why? I c-can t-tell you're g-good, I'm sure of it."

Out of all the things I'd said, I figured that one was the least likely to offend, so I hadn't hesitated at all, but I immediately regretted it. Her entire face seemed to darken, and she didn't even bother to respond.

"I m-mean, you'll n-need t-to share if you're m-majoring in C-Creative Wr-Writing, ri-right?" Of course that was the wrong thing to say, but I'd hit the point where I realized I should just keep my mouth shut and my stuttering went out of control. Unfortunately, once I get to that point, I ramble without restraint almost as bad as a stutter, so I kept going. Knowing exactly what was going on, I tried my utmost to swallow my words, but when Rafa didn't respond and went on writing, the urge to talk only became stronger.

"I'm sorry," I said, finally. "I d-don't m-mind. Just d-do what's c-comfortable for you. B-But m-maybe I c-can g-give you my phone number in case you need a proofreader in the future. I really love editing, and I won't judge, I promise."

It was one of the hardest things I've ever made myself say, but it seemed to pay off. Rafa still didn't speak, but that seemed more due to the fact that she was absorbed in writing than holding a grudge, since she offered me her phone with her left hand while the other kept writing.

The phone wasn't locked, so I went ahead and entered my number. When I tried to hand it back to her, Rafa didn't move, so I held on to it for the remainder of the train ride. Neither of us spoke; Rafa wrote, listening to the rain; I listened to the rhythmic scratch of her pencil on the paper and eventually dozed off.

As the train slowed, I woke up and Rafa was still writing like mad. I nudged her, and again it took a moment for the haze to clear from her eyes. When it did, the peaceful smile on her face remained.

She thanked me when I handed her phone back, and told me she'd text me. Still, I didn't actually think she would until she did, no more than six minutes after we parted ways, although it wasn't about editing. It was a statement:

hi jas, i just got back to my room. now that we're friends, we should hang out. let me know when you're free

p.s. please don't think i'm a freak for calling you my friend already. i wanted to be friends with you because i think you're cool, but we don't have to be if you don't want to

After all of Rafa's surprises, I was less shocked when, after three days passed and I had yet to reach out, she sent me her address and told me to come to her place.

As much as I had enjoyed spending the train ride with her, I was tempted to refuse the offer, simply because it meant I would have to leave my room and encounter other people. However, at about that time, my roommate returned with his older sister, and suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be in my room.

It wasn't that either of them were terrible people. It was just that Spenser was a terrible roommate in the sense that he left dirty dishes around for weeks, he left his dirty laundry on my bed, and he often came back to the room drunk. In fact, the day he'd moved in, he had tried to drink in the room, but I'd shut that down. He'd fired back that I ought to worry about my own problems and get out of the room more often because being holed up alone was unhealthy, but he never brought alcohol into the room again after I threatened to call the police on him and that was what mattered. In comparison, his sister was a godsend, often stopping by to put him in his place and clean up some of the mess he'd made, but she not only reminded me that Jet was so far away, but was also one of the most intimidating people I had ever met. Thus, I refused to talk to her altogether. Suffice to say, the chance to leave my room was suddenly welcome.

After that, I spent a lot of time at Rafa's place. Her roommate was out quite a bit (to her disappointment, since she very much desired for me to meet her; apparently they were best friends) and mine was around, and with his sister, far too often for my liking.

Meanwhile, my own sister, my twin with whom I'd spent my whole life, was on the other side of the country, at another school, on a full ride scholarship, but and was too busy to talk. It was, cliché as it sounds, as if I'd lost half of myself when we went our separate ways.

Fortunately, spending time with Rafa helped with that, too. They didn't look a thing alike, but something about her and Jet's mannerisms were similar enough that being around Rafa calmed me in the same way Jet always had. Moreover, whenever I saw Rafa around campus, she was happy, and it was the sort of happiness that was genuine and deep and contagious, even from a distance.

All in all, being friends with Rafa made those last few weeks of my first semester at college as painless as possible.

At the end of that semester, she asked me to read some of what she'd written. It was, as expected, outstanding, and I told her as much, but instead of being glad, or relieved, as I'd expected she'd be, Rafa's face darkened in the same way it had on the train when we'd met. Just like then, she became uncharacteristically quiet.

"Raf?" I didn't know what to say, and made an attempt at changing the conversation that just made the situation worse. "Are you excited for next semester?"

Rafa's first semester had been filled with required general education courses like Biology and Algebra, so I figured she would be excited to get into the writing courses. I was wrong.

"I'm nervous," she said, more quietly than I'd ever heard her speak.

"About what p-people will say about your writing?"

She nodded.

"I d-don't think you have to worry about that. That's why you had me read something of yours, right? It think you're terrific," I said. Then, for good measure, I added, "You d-definitely chose the r-right thing to study.

"Thanks," she mumbled. I thought I sensed a bit of sarcasm in her tone, but brushed it off as my imagination, and although her continued lack of enthusiasm was still concerning, I figured she would be alright once she got started and people confirmed that she was as amazing as I believed she was.

Once again, I was very wrong.

The next semester started off much the same as the last had finished, with me spending a lot of time in Rafa's room while my roommate was being a pain in my ass who was not only terribly unhygienic, but intent on rudely convincing me that I needed to see a counselor about my inability to talk to people I deemed intimidating, and Rafa still complaining about the fact that I still hadn't met her best friend and roommate.

Eventually, it got to the point that I wondered if she was just making this roommate out to mess with me, but when I asked Rafa, she told me that Erinne had family issues to deal with, so she was out of the room a lot. Not soon after I asked, however, Rafa stopped texting me.

It may seem strange, but after all this time, I had yet to text her first, and that in itself meant that it was impossible for me to do so after all that time. Not only that, but I figured it was my fault in the first place, for doubting her about her roommate. I should have known it was a sensitive subject by the way she always talked about Erinne with such emotion, but I'd grown too comfortable around Rafa and had been pretty tactless about the whole thing. Unfortunately, saying sorry is one of the hardest things for me to say, so instead, I kept my silence.

Three weeks passed without a word from Rafa, and I missed her all the while. I started missing my sister more than ever, but when we talked on the phone, it didn't have the impact I had hoped it would and I realized that I really missed Rafa. She'd become my best friend, which was something I'd never thought I'd have. It hurt all the more because I knew I had ruined it with my own two hands.

Moreover, my roommate was becoming more and more insufferable. His sister was around only rarely, and both of us wondered if she'd given up on him. He seemed happy about that, but I was certainly not, since it meant he got drunk more often and his mess never got cleaned. Then he sprained his ankle during some drunken escapade and he was practically unable to leave the room, not to mention terribly irritable all the time, and he seemed set on sending me to see a psychologist. As usual, I tried to ignore him, one day at about midterm time it got particularly bad, and I had to leave.

It was raining, so I took my umbrella, which was almost immediately broken by the wind, but the rain reminded me of Rafa, and even if I wasn't a writer, it was beautiful in that the rain was a reflection of my own emotional state, so I didn't mind too much. I ended up walking 20 minutes to a café off campus, which was pleasantly empty, save its employees and one other customer. As usual, I sat in a corner so that I had a view of the entire room, and set to work.

However, after no more than about six minutes had passed, someone else entered, and I looked up and made eye contact with her instinctively. Not recognizing her, I didn't realize my mistake at first. Then she made a beeline straight for me and I wondered if I was going crazy, because the person in front of me looked like Rafa, but she wasn't smiling.

"Oh, hey, Jasper, it's you," she chuckled, and it was the creepiest thing because still she didn't smile.

"R-Rafa?" It was the first time I stuttered on her name.

"The one and only," she said, her enthusiasm apparently completely gone.

"What's wr-wrong?"

"Nothing."

"R-Right. S-Sit d-down," I said, in a less demanding way than I'd intended, but effective nonetheless as she sat. I gave her the rest of my coffee and she downed it in seconds. I was about to ask again what was wrong when she spoke of her own accord.

"I can't write."

The way she said it took my breath away. It was as if her life force had been replaced by a black hole and the words sucked the oxygen out of everything they touched.

"What d-do you m-mean."

"I can't-"

"Why? It's a b-beautiful d-day," I gestured towards the window. The reference to our first ever conversation seemed to catch her off guard, and she actually laughed. It surprised her enough that she finally snapped out of her panic.

"Oh, Jas, it's terrible."

"I kn-know."

She smiled, and it was sad. "I think I'm going to fail my classes. I'll have to drop out of college. Do you think we can still be friends?"

"N-No," I said, and as I watched her face fall, I almost regretted it. I almost took it back. But it wasn't the same as the other things I had regretted, because as much as it pained me, it was what she needed to hear. "You're g-going t-to stay here, or else we won't be friends."

"Don't say that," she pleaded, now on the verge of tears. "It doesn't help."

"What would?"

"What would help? Nothing, probably."

I waited for her to correct herself, and sure enough she did.

"It's too much," she said. "It's the sharing, and getting feedback. I thought I'd be fine. I thought I loved writing enough by now that I'd be strong enough to take it. But I can't."

"What d-did they say?"

Tears again filled her eyes and I expected the worst. "The same thing as you, Jas."

That broke my heart and confused me. I thought I'd been nice.

"B-But-"

"Yeah," she said. "It was all positive. It was all, 'you're writing is fantastic, so you've clearly chosen the right path,' and 'you're a natural' and 'your writing is flawless, you were made for this.'"

"What's the p-problem then?"

"None of it is true!" Now the tears fell from her eyes. "I'm not a natural, my writing is flawed. There are so many people who are better at writing than me, how can I possibly have chosen the right path? I don't even... I don't even like to write any more."

I was shaking my head before she finished. "I n-never said your wr-writing was p-perfect, b-because you shouldn't be."

At that she looked up, and I nodded and kept talking.

"I wouldn't have a p-problem with you d-dropping out if you were. You're not here to be perfect. You're not even here to learn to be perfect. You're just here to learn, which, since you aren't a natural, is what you've been doing your whole life. In a way, you're a natural at that."

It took her a minute to process it, but I could tell by the way her back straightened that it made some sense.

"You're right," she said, as if the words were one of the Wonders of the World. It was only a moment before a bit of hesitation returned, though. She spoke in a whisper. "But what do I do if they say my writing's bad?"

I laughed. "You s-say what you j-just t-told me. 'You're right.' Then you ask how to fix it and let them help you."

"Oh!" And now the light returned to Rafa's eyes, her whole face, the whole room. She jumped up and looked ready to hug me before she stopped herself, remembering my resistance to touch. That made me vaguely sad, but mostly I was happy to have helped her rediscover her own happiness. "Oh, Jasper, I feel like I can write again! You're right, it is a beautiful day, and-“

She could have gone on for hours, I'm sure, but instead she froze and scrambled to answer her ringing phone. As emotionally expressive as she is, I'd thought I'd seen the majority of Rafa's countenances, but the way she transformed from thrilled to downright terrified caught even me off guard.

"No," she whispered. "No, Erinne, oh my gosh. Hang on, I'll be there. I- I don't know, I'll figure it out, don't worry about it. I love you. See you soon," she said, and hung up.

The calm she'd maintained throughout the call was gone in an instant.

"Jasper, what do I do? Erinne's brother- he's in the hospital, but I don't have a car, and you don't have a car, I don't know-"

"There are b-buses."

"Right."

It wasn't the best solution, but we managed to catch the next bus so that we arrived at the hospital in about 35 minutes. Erinne was standing outside of the hospital, and both Rafa and I recognized her immediately. Rafa, of course, saw her best friend, and ran to her and gave her a hug. I recognized my roommate's sister and took a step back.

"Oh no," I whispered. "Spenser..."

"Oh," Erinne said, wiping her eyes, "you're his roommate, aren't you? I'm sorry he's been such a pain, I'm sorry I didn't do more-"

"Er," Rafa whispered. "What happened?"

"Pills," Erinne said breathlessly. "But, he'll be fine. Medically, at least."

Rafa hugged her again, and Erinne seemed to deflate.

"I had n-no idea," I muttered, and Erinne smiled at me and didn't seem half as intimidating as I'd imagined she was.

"It's not your fault," she assured me.

"It's not yours, either," Rafa said firmly, holding Erinne's shoulders tightly. Erinne shrugged.

"Regardless, I'm going to be there for him in the future, Raf. I'm going to get him help."

"We c-can all help with that," I said, before I even knew I was talking. I couldn't help but add, "if you want."

Erinne nodded. "Thank you, I would love that."

---

A year later and we're sitting in the small apartment Spenser and I now share. It's been a long year; Spenser had to try out various counselors before he finally found one that helped with his depression; I finally took Spencer's advice to heart and found a good counselor myself. We’re both making progress, even if it’s slow. Erinne's been around a lot. So much, in fact, that I no longer fear her.

As for Rafa, well, her life force has returned to her, so she's writing as usual, and always around to remind us that rainy years, like days, are often the most beautiful.

a note to my editor: hi jas, i just finished this. now that i understand how learning works, you should help me fix this terrible piece of writing. let me know what you think

p.s. please don't think i'm a freak for writing it from your perspective. i wanted to write something i could learn from, and with you as my editor, i figured this was the best way for you to teach me